Embracing the Darkness
by Ellar Shadow Raven
Summary: Harry hates the world, all hope is lost, the only way he can win is by embracing the darkness


Embracing the Darkness  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Guilt Redeemed  
  
Harry Potter, the famous boy-who-lived. If the world could see him now, beaten, broken, and brought down. Living in his own squalor and filth. Nearly starving, and on the verge of going insane. Perhaps he was insane, people say that when someone's insane, they don't know they're crazy. Thinking about it, Harry realized that he didn't care anymore.  
  
Every breath he's taken, a curse upon the world.  
  
Harry Potter, the bringer of death, the destroyer of life.  
  
He had stopped responding to the letters when all they ever asked was if Harry was ok. He stopped reading the letters when they brought back too many memories. He realized that they were all talking about him and his state of mind behind his back when he had written to Ron and wrote a sarcastic comment and not too long after he had been flooded by letters inquiring about how he was, if he was feeling ok, if he needed to talk.  
  
It was half an hour until his birthday, and he was bitterly laughing at the world. The only reason Harry hadn't killed himself was because of Sirius. Harry knew that Sirius wouldn't want Harry to just throw his life away, but fight and kill Voldemort. Harry smiled mirthlessly Ironic how the world works thought Harry Sirius is the reason I want to kill myself, and he's the reason I wont.  
  
The summer at the Dursley's had been bearable, partly due to the severe fright that Mad Eye Moody had etched into his mind when they had left him at the train station partly because Harry had stopped caring about what they said and did the chores they set for him without complaining or bemoaning the tasks. Harry welcomed the hard physical labor; he welcomed the dreamless sleep that it gave him at night, the sleep that allowed him to forget about the Department of Mysteries. In the void of his dreams, he stopped tormenting himself, and forgot about the world.  
  
True to form, a barrage of owls showed up exactly at midnight tapping at his window. Harry was about to send them away when he noticed the unusually large package that one owl was struggling to bear all by its lonesome. Despite Harry's possible insanity, he still wouldn't be cruel to an innocent animal. With the intention of sending all of the owls back with their packages after letting them take a quick break, Harry let them into his room.  
  
Harry opened up Hedwig's cage and took out the dishes for food and water. Harry took the large parcel off of the unfamiliar bird's back and made sure that it got first chance at the refreshments.  
  
After Harry made sure that each of the owls had had enough to eat and drink, he tried to send them on their way with the packages that they were supposed to deliver. Seven of the eight owls adamantly refused to leave without dropping off their respectable responsibilities, the eight one left immediately, before Harry had the chance to send the parcel back.  
  
Ten minutes later Harry gave up trying to get the remaining seven to leave with their packages, after sustaining a number of minor injuries resulting from beaks and claws. Harry untied each of the presents, and then sent the owls on their way with a sigh. Why can they not leave me alone? I'm fine, and I don't deserve anything that they have sent me.  
  
The presents sat there on his desk, looking at him, bringing forth the sadness of his soul. The small part of Harry's mind that knew that Voldemort was the one to blame not Harry, stepped forward and spoke, The people who sent you these present believe differently, they obviously believe that you deserve them or they wouldn't have sent them.  
  
Finally Harry got up the courage to see whom they were from.  
  
There was the yearly Hogwarts letter, a medium sized present from Hermione, a oblong present from Ron, two anonymous presents, a package from Dumbledore, and the large one said 'from all of us,' with a figure of a phoenix drawn next to the words.  
  
Harry kept on giving in to the voice of reason in his head, If they thought you were unworthy of their gifts, than they wouldn't have sent them to you. They are the better judge to tell if you are worthy or not.  
  
After minutes of the parcels inspiring curiosity in Harry's mind, he finally gave into the small voice. Saving the biggest for last, Harry opened the oblong present from Ron first.  
  
Inside the well-wrapped box was an assortment of things, first was a book on chess, and the strategy of the game. There was also a length of rope and a harness coiled tightly together, after raising a questioning eyebrow, Harry moved on to the last item inside. He pulled out what seemed like a tangled bit of leather. Curious as to what it was he set to untangling the hunk of leather. After ten minutes of getting nowhere, Harry dug through the box looking for some semblance of instructions or description telling him what everything was. Finally he found it, a half-torn ragged piece of parchment, with a scribbled letter residing upon the surface of the textile.  
  
Harry,  
  
Happy Birthday!  
  
I got a job this summer, for the muggle neighbors, painting their house. That was an interesting job, getting it done without magic, now I know how they must feel. I have learned my lesson, never volunteer for a muggle job. It takes way too much work.  
  
With the book maybe you'll be able to scratch up a win against me (ha ha as if!) when we get back too school. I remember when we came right before our second year and got you that you had an upper level room. Now you have a means to get out of the house with out your relatives knowing.  
  
I found the wrist sheath at a shop in Diagon Alley. Thought you could use it, and you would like it. There is an instruction manual that goes with it. ENJOY!  
  
Talked to Dumbledore, and you can come to our house tomorrow. The box this was sent in is a port key; it will take you to our house at four pm tomorrow afternoon.  
  
See you then!  
  
Your Mate,  
  
Ron  
  
Harry tossed down the note, tears coming to his eyes. What have I done to deserve this? Ron spent a summer painting a muggle house just so he could get me these gifts. I am unworthy.  
  
Harry searched through the box looking for the instruction manual to his wrist sheath. All that he found was a long piece of parchment. Harry decided that the parchment was the instruction manual, and it took a key phrase to activate it. Harry tried different words, and was sincerely frustrated when with a last effort he used the marauder's phrase "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." Harry dropped the map when lines of writing showed up.  
  
Mr. Prongs greets the new mischief-maker.  
  
Mr. Mooney does as well, and inquires the name of the new mischief-maker.  
  
Mr. Padfoot repeats everything that they just said and wishes the new mischief-maker good luck in his endeavors to wreak mischief and mayhem upon the unsuspecting.  
  
Mr. Wormtail agrees with all said previously, and would like to congratulate the newest mischief-maker in finding this manuscript and the wrist-sheath.  
  
Harry hurriedly grabbed a quill and bottle of ink from his desk drawer, and started writing.  
  
Hello, this is Harry Potter, son or Mr. Prongs.  
  
Mr. Padfoot asks how Mr. Prongs is doing in real life.  
  
Harry paused a moment before continuing,  
  
Mr. Prongs is dead. He died protecting his wife and myself.  
  
Mr. Prongs asks if he succeeded in protecting them.  
  
Once again Harry paused before answering,  
  
Yes. He saved me.  
  
Mr. Prongs says that he is proud to have saved his loved ones.  
  
Mr. Moony says that Mr. Padfoot owes him ten galleons because he won the bet of who would marry first, Prongs or Padfoot.  
  
Mr. Padfoot says that he owes Mr. Moony nothing, as we haven't found out if Mr. Padfoot had been married or not.  
  
The essence of the marauders went on in such a fashion, their bickering lively, and carefree. Harry picked up his quill, and dipped into the bottle of ink, an uncertain look on his face. Harry knew that the parchment only had a small piece of the marauder's essences infused into the scroll, but this was the only way that Harry could find out the answer to his question.  
  
Mr. Padfoot, may I ask you a question?  
  
Mr. Padfoot says anytime.  
  
Whose fault would it be if you went to save someone, who had gone to save you, but it turned out to be a trap and you died?  
  
Mr. Padfoot says that he needs to know the entire story before making such a judgment.  
  
For the first time since his talk with Dumbledore, Harry told the entire story about what happened last year. Harry wrote the entire incident, leaving nothing out. When he finished, Mr. Padfoot took a moment to think about the story and all that it implied.  
  
Mr. Padfoot has come to the conclusion that Mr. Harry Potter is not to be blamed. The only person at fault is Voldemort himself, and Mr. Padfoot charges Mr. Harry Potter with bringing down Voldemort and his pathetic reign.  
  
Harry was surprised at how much that last statement mattered. 'The only person at fault is Voldemort himself,' That meant that Harry wasn't to blame. That meant that Voldemort was the only reason for all of this. If Voldemort had never been born, than everyone would still be alive. A silent tear coursed down his cheek; with that tear, Harry made a pledge to himself, and to the essences of the marauders.  
  
I swear upon my life that I will stop Voldemort, or die trying.


End file.
